Almost

Kate

I’ve loved Liam my entire life. Most of it, anyway. We met when I was seven and I was at my first slumber party. His little sister, Claire, and I were in the same grade and were best friends. We had begged our mothers for weeks to let us have a sleepover, and they had both finally conceded. Claire and I had spent the entire evening hulled up in her room making pony bead keychains and singing along to her Jonas Brothers cd at the tops of our lungs. When Claire’s mom called us down for dinner, Claire and I came bounding down the hall, giggling all the way.

As we rounded the corner to the dining room, I saw him. My poor little heart didn’t know what hit it. Claire had talked about her big brother before, always complaining about how much he picked on her or how he ate all the good snacks before she could have any. She had made him seem like an ogre, not the most handsome nine year old to ever grace my little world. I nervously took my seat, desperately attempting not to look like the little kid I clearly was. As plates were passed around, he spoke for the first time. “After dinner will you guys please take a break from the cd player? I can hear your screeching clear in my room.” My face flooded with heat. That is the first time I can ever remember wishing I could just disappear. I spent the rest of the slumber party with my stomach in knots, hoping I would run into Liam each time we ventured out of Claire’s room and simultaneously praying we wouldn’t. And so began the cycle of my gut wrenching, never ending, lifelong love for my best friend’s brother.

Liam

I’ve known Kate since we were little kids. She was always with Claire. They were inseparable. It was like I had two little sisters following me around. I pretended to hate spending time with them, but I secretly loved when the three of us would spend hours playing together, making up our own fantasy worlds and games that only we knew the rules to.

When I was around twelve, we had spent an entire day working on a snow fort. Originally we had set out to make an igloo, but we quickly realized we lacked the architectural skills to pull something of such magnitude off. We had just completed the finishing touches and Claire had gone inside to fill our big thermos with hot cocoa.

It was the first time in the years of playing together that I had ever been alone with Kate, though I didn’t think much of it. She had busied herself with the task of making an arsenal of snowballs, focusing hard on shaping each one. I sat down beside her, grabbing some snow and working to add more to the pile. For every snowball she made, I could make four. Kate didn’t seem to notice it, though. She just kept working away, silent and oblivious.

After I had made about twenty snowballs and she was still working on her fourth, I spoke up. “What’s taking you so long?” I demanded. “Did no one ever teach you how to make a snowball?” She looked up, a little twinkle dancing in her eyes. “You have to pack snowballs really hard. If you don’t put enough pressure on them, they fall apart in the battle.” I scoffed at her explanation, unaware that she would be pulverizing me in our snowball fight twenty minutes later.

Kate is like that, though. She’s not cocky and she doesn’t point out that she’s better than you. She just…is. She’s deliberate in her words, her actions, her love, and her regrets. She lives in a world of silent brilliance, easily overlooked until you stop and observe. It’s something I’ve learned over and over about her over the years.

Kate

When I was thirteen, Liam broke my heart for the very first time. It had been a hard enough year. Middle school is a particularly awkward time for any kid, and I was certainly no exception. I was navigating through a new world filled with pimples, boys attempting to cover their new body odors with too much Axe body spray, first period mishaps, and my first exposure to mean girl clicks. After the long weeks, Claire and I would always spend weekends together. Looking forward to that time with my best friend was often what made eighth grade bearable.

It was the last day of school before Christmas break. Claire and I were walking to her house for a celebratory sleepover. Snow was falling down on us in giant fluffy flakes and storefronts were lit with gorgeous Christmas displays. The evening felt magical and full of promise. I kept catching myself fantasizing that Liam would give me some sort of special Christmas present and confess that he too harbored a reciprocating crush on me. If Hallmark movies had taught me anything, it was that people can fall in love without expecting it at Christmas. The holiday was just magic like that.

Claire and I decided to stop at Cool Beans, the local coffee shop, to get peppermint mochas with extra chocolate, extra peppermint, and extra whipped cream. We loved stopping there whenever we could, because having coffee made us think we looked cooler and more sophisticated. We had almost crafted a way to make our drinks taste nothing like coffee, too, since we both secretly hated the taste.

I could feel the warmth of the familiar little cafe immediately begin to thaw my cheeks and my nose as soon as we walked in. We ordered our drinks and sat at our favorite spot, the oversized green loveseat in the back. We were giggling and listening to the “Punk Goes Christmas” covers playing over the speakers when the door chimed again. I looked over to see Liam with a girl from his class. She had gorgeous blonde hair that stayed neat when she took off her beanie, and she was sporting a radiant smile. She was mesmerizing, and he was so enamored in their conversation that he didn’t even notice us. They placed their orders and made their way around the counter to find a seat, exposing their intertwined hands as they did.

I pretended that my coffee made my stomach hurt and that I was too sick to spend the night with Claire after all, then I went home and spent the rest of the weekend crying in my room.

Liam

When I was a junior in high school, I realized Kate was beautiful. Claire and I were running late, as usual, as we pulled up to Kate’s house in my beat up little Ford Focus. Kate was waiting on her front porch, wrapped up as tight as she could be in her coat in a feeble attempt to stay warm in the freezing drizzle. Her fur lined hood was pulled tight around her face as she ran to the car.

Kate threw open the back door, tossed in her backpack, and hopped into the back seat. I watched her in my rear view mirror, waiting for her to buckle her seatbelt before I put the car back in drive. She threw her hood back and shook out her curly dark hair as she was talking to my sister. I could smell her tangerine shampoo when she did it. All of Kate’s focus was on Claire and she was laughing as she animatedly told Claire some little anecdote.

My heart skipped a beat and my stomach flipped like I was on a roller coaster. She was gorgeous. I think that was the day I began to realize I would be happy spending the rest of my life by her side. The revelation was crushing, though. She had a boyfriend that she had been dating for over a year, and I had missed any opportunity I may have had.

Kate

Toward the end of our senior year, Claire and I decided to rent an apartment together and go to the local community college. I wanted to study to become a pharmacist, and I knew I had many years of college ahead of me. In going to community college, I was hoping to avoid student loans while I knocked out my prerequisites. My plan was to pay everything off in payments each semester. I would make good money waiting tables at our country club’s restaurant where I had just gotten a job.

Claire, God bless her, wanted to be a middle school teacher. I can’t understand why anyone would want to go back to middle school, even as an adult, but her aspirations fit her. She was kind and observant, and she always knew the exact right thing to say when someone was having a hard go of it. She would’ve changed the world as a middle school teacher, shining that light only she possessed on one high risk student at a time. Instead, the world remains a little darker, just like the casket she’s buried in.

Liam

I got out of basic training just in time to see my sister and Kate walk across the stage at their high school graduation.

When Kate crossed the stage, I realized that she wasn’t just beautiful. I realized that I was in love with her. My heart physically ached. I would give anything to call her mine, and I would never be anything other than her best friend’s older brother.

Then my sweet baby sister’s name was called. I stood in the crowded auditorium watching her cross the stage, beaming with pride. Looking back, I am filled with gratitude that I was able to be there. I deployed a few weeks later, and I never saw Claire again.

Kate

I would love to pretend that our friendship only grew deeper as roommates. In some ways, I suppose it did. Claire was a sister I always wanted, and we loved each other in a fierce, protective way that only best friends and siblings understand.

In other ways, though, Claire and I began to have problems in our friendship. The biggest one was Ray. Ray was a professor at the college and a narcissist. He weaseled his way into her life in October of our freshman year, and at first, I kind of liked him. He was mature and smart, and he seemed to genuinely care about my friend. He took her on romantic dates and sent her flowers often. She was glowing and truly happy. By Christmas, the bottom dropped out.

Ray had neglected to tell Claire that he had a reputation for stirring up a whirlwind romance with an incoming freshman every year. He also forgot to tell her he was married. Ray slithered out of every lie Claire caught him in like the snake he is, though. Through a combination of gas lighting, guilt tripping, and love bombing, he manipulated Claire into thinking the only thing he was guilty of was bad luck, both in his marriage and previous relationships.

I longed for Liam to come home, and not just because I missed him so much. He would be able to talk some sense into Claire. If not, maybe he could knock some sense into Ray. But Liam wouldn’t be home for another five months, and he had already been home for his leave before the mess with Ray had begun.

When Valentine’s Day rolled around, things between Claire and I had become toxic. Ray had convinced her that I was jealous of their relationship and I was out to destroy it. My best friend had gone from being full of joy and warmth to short tempered and cold.

Claire spent the entire afternoon getting ready for her date with Ray, and she looked stunning. She was wearing a beautiful, form fitting scarlet dress with matching pumps. Not a hair was out of place and her makeup was flawless. I desperately wanted to tell her how gorgeous she was, inside and out, and beg her to share her beauty with someone who would truly appreciate her, but I bit my tongue. When she walked out the door, she didn’t even bother to look at me or say goodbye.

I spent the evening watching rom coms and eating cookie dough straight from the tube. It wasn’t glamorous, but I enjoyed it. There’s nothing so bad that some cookie dough and a good cry won’t at least provide some level of catharsis.

Somewhere around 10:30, I resolved to stop trying to help Claire. I loved her so much, but if our friendship was to survive, I needed to be supportive. I decided to go to bed and talk to her about it in the morning. As I was laying in bed, though, I got the text.

I know u don’t care but Ray told me he loved me 2night for the first time. He’s leaving his wife and we’re getting a place 2gether this summer. I would appreciate it if u don’t ruin this 4 me when I get home.

I chose not to respond. I was still dedicated to being the supportive friend she needed, but the way she spoke hurt. Around an hour later, the phone calls started, one after another. I was still hurt and was taking time to lick my wounds before I talked to Claire. I decided to ignore them, figuring she could catch me up on whatever she wanted to talk about the next day. Thirteen calls and four voicemails later, the calls stopped.

Claire never came home the next day. At noon, I worked up the courage to check my voicemails. In the first one, Claire was sobbing.

Kate, you were right. I’m so sorry. Please call back.

My stomach lurched. If things had ended with Ray, where was she?

Can you please come get me? I’m so sorry. I’m walking down the old highway behind the school. He just left me here and drove away.

Kate, please please answer your phone. I know you’re mad, but please don’t leave me out here.

The last one changed my life forever.

Kate, please don’t hate me. I know I messed up. Can you just come get me and we can ta-

The message was interrupted by screeching tires and a sickening thud. Then the line went dead.

Liam

I was granted a week of leave to watch my sister be put in the ground, then I had to return to Iraq. As the eulogies were read, I couldn’t decipher if the tears blurring my vision were from rage or sorrow.

Someone had slid on the ice and hit Claire, then fled the scene. The autopsy report indicated that her death hadn’t been quick. It had been slow and excruciating. Kate’s right leg and three ribs had been broken. One of the ribs punctured her lung and it collapsed. She laid in the snow, slowly suffocating, for hours. Either no one else drove down the old highway, opting for the new one that was better treated for the cold weather, or no one saw her as they passed. My sister died cold, scared, and alone.

After the funeral, I sought out Kate. I hated myself for still thinking about how much I loved her while I was supposed to be focused on mourning my sister, but I couldn’t help it. I realized how fragile life is, and I couldn’t live with the idea of going back without telling her how I felt.

Kate

I couldn’t even look at Liam at Kate’s funeral. I was drowning in guilt so thick that it actually made it hard to breathe. I had successfully dodged him for the service and I had almost made it back to my car when Liam grabbed my arm, speaking a mile a minute before I had even turned around, “Kate, I know that this isn’t the time or place. But I’m scared that if I wait until the right time, I’ll never be able to tell you. I think I’m in love with you. I understand if you don’t feel the same way. I just can’t leave this place without telling you.”

I should’ve lied and said I didn’t feel the same. I should have walked away. It would’ve been better to break his heart then and let him get over it. He could’ve found someone who deserved his love. But I couldn’t. I selfishly wrapped my arms around him, kissing him in a way I had dreamt about for years.

Loving Liam still comes as naturally as it always had. We slowly built our lives together, and three years ago, I became his wife. My peace, though, has always been ankle deep. If I let myself go any further into the depths of our life, the undercurrent of shame will sweep me away and destroy me with its mighty waves.

It has to end tonight, though. I realized in the doctor’s office that I can’t do it anymore. This precious little life inside of me doesn’t deserve to grow up in a household full of secrets. Our baby deserves to know that he or she wouldn’t be missing out on a relationship with the best aunt they would ever have if mommy had only answered her phone all those years ago.

I’ve made it to our doorstep, but I’m frozen in place, my hand hovering over the doorknob. I see the Parker’s Christmas lights reflecting in our window. It’s freezing out, but I can’t feel it through my fear. Tears fill my eyes, and I take a deep breath as I break my trance and walk into our home. My mind is racing about what will happen with Liam, but one thought on repeat keeps me grounded.

If it’s a girl, we’ll name her Claire.